Netflix's 'Gypsy,' with Naomi Watts, is Your TV Version of a Summer Beach Read

Earlier this year, HBO found major success with "Big Little Lies." Based on the Australian novel by Liane Moriarty of the same name, many expected the miniseries to follow the novel's tone and tropes, resulting in the TV equivalent of a summer beach read. Saucy, gripping and a bit over-the-top, HBO's "Big Little Lies" ended up being much more.

Boosted by its excellent A-list cast (Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Shailene Woodley, Laura Dern, Zoe Kravitz), written for the small screen by TV vet David E. Kelley ("Boston Legal," "Ally McBeal") and directed by French filmmaker Jean-Marc Vall�e ("Dallas Buyers Club," "Wild"), the "Big Little Lies" millions tuned into wasn't just a soap opera for the "Gone Girl" crowd. Like David Fincher's adaptation of the Gillian Flynn novel, the drama dove deep into its characters, portraying three-dimensional women who have complex motives and desires. It pulled off something few shows can do: Be thoroughly entertaining and compellingly smart.

While "Big Little Lies" ended up being one of the best shows of 2017 - and one of the most talked about - not every series needs to be as sharp. Netflix's "Gypsy," which hits the streaming service June 30, will easily be this summer's TV true "beach read." Starring the wonderful Naomi Watts as therapist Jean Holloway, the psychosexual thriller follows Jean as her suburban ennui becomes too much to handle.

Created by Lisa Rubin, the first two episodes of "Gypsy" are helmed by "50 Shades of Grey" director Sam Taylor-Johnson, who also serves as an executive producer. As with Fincher, who directed the first episode of Netflix's flagship original series "House of Cards," Taylor-Johnson sets up the tone of the new drama, incorporating the naughty and risqu� sensibilities that made "50 Shades" a phenomenon.

Everything in Jean's world suddenly becomes heightened when she decides to venture into the personal lives of her clients. Bored of her mundane routine and balancing work life with family life (soccer moms can be brutal!), she becomes fixated on a young barista at a coffee shop near her New York City office, aptly called The Rabbit Hole. Coincidently the barista, a woman named Sydney (Sophie Cookson) who is trying to launch a music career, happens to be the on-again-off-again of one of Jean's clients, Sam (Karl Glusman). Jean creates a new identity for herself when interacting with Sydney, and the other people in her clients' lives, telling them her name is Diane and that she works as a freelance journalist.

Both Jean and Sydney are intrigued and infatuated with each another. Jean, much older than Sydney, creates a fleshed out persona for Diane, telling the young barista she's single. In reality, Jean is married to Michael (Billy Crudup), a good guy and a lawyer who often works late nights with his sexy secretary.

Jean and Michael, a seemingly happy and handsome couple, live in Connecticut with their young daughter Dolly (Maren Heary), who appears to be going through gender identity issues. Over the course of its 10-hour season, "Gypsy" plays out like a supermarket romance novel; like "Girl On the Train" without the murder mystery. "Gypsy" is completely invested in Jean's love life and her transformation from an average working mom to a woman with a wild side who has a trove of secrets. Throughout the 10 episodes, Jean builds a house of cards and with each new encounter, unexpected text message and suspicious glare from her husband, she becomes increasingly anxious that her second life will collapse, jeopardizing her family and her job.

Though all of that might sound like riveting TV, "Gypsy" is a tedious watch, like a paperback that's 200 pages too long. The first season is bloated; "Gypsy" would be better off as a five or six episode season. The show spins its wheels, becoming monotonously bland during the middle of the season and Jean's fixation with Sydney also plods along too slowly. The push-and-pull of their romance; the will-she-or-won't-she tension is spread so thin over the 10 hours that the most patient viewers will likely be agitated. The writers also do a poor job of making Sydney a compelling character, reducing her intrigue down to being a Williamsburg hipster who listens to too much Patti Smith. There's nothing exotic about that.

Unlike other series and films that have examined similar type of malaise (Todd Haynes' horrific "Safe" comes to mind), "Gypsy" is almost all surface level, failing to scratch at something deeper. It's not the biggest issue here however. The show's most glaring shortcomings involve its lack of risk. That "Gypsy" exists on a no-holds-bar streaming service like Netflix, Rubin and Co. oddly avoid taking chances, instead opting for the safe route and offer few thrilling moments. Instead of outrageous and over-the-top storytelling one may expect from a psychosexual thriller, we see Jean in mundane scenarios over and over again. When the story does change course, "Gypsy" has moments of brilliance and becomes truly exciting.

To its credit, however, the way in which the show treats Jean's same-sex romance with Sydney is commendable. It would be easy for "Gypsy" to portray Jean's relationship as tantalizing and forbidden because they're both women, but the writers spotlight the their encounters without judgment or problematic gaze.

"Gypsy" has the unfortunate timing of debuting while the return of "Twin Peaks" is in its early stretch. Watt's performance as the heightened version of a sitcom mom, Janey-E, has been getting praise around the web, and rightfully so. While she's excellent as the star of her own Netflix series, the role doesn't offer her much range. Still, it's a pleasure to watch her over 10 hours as a leading lady, which is the most redeeming quality of "Gypsy."

"Gypsy" is not a show that earns all of your attention but the type of show you can binge on a hot summer day. If heading to the beach with a book isn't your thing, stay indoors with the AC and throw on this thriller.